


love me tender

by maguna_stxrk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maguna_stxrk/pseuds/maguna_stxrk
Summary: “What are you watching?” Steve asks.“My number one feel-good movie,” Tony mumbles distractedly, eyes glued to the screen.Upon recognizing the film, Steve's breath catches in his throat.The videographer’s voice comes through, off-camera:“When did you know that Tony was the one?”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 325





	love me tender

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr as a response to the following dialogue prompt: “Will you carry me to bed?” (from [this list](https://maguna-stxrk.tumblr.com/post/625987902943412224))

“Sweetheart, you ready to go?”

Steve looks around the workshop, frowning when he doesn’t find Tony. Just as he is about to turn around and look elsewhere, he spots tufts of dark hair sticking out from the side of the workshop couch.

He grins, bounding over excitedly. He expects to find Tony lying on the couch with a tablet in hand, distracted in the way that he tends to get with work, giving it a single-minded focus that is almost eerily intense. Steve likes to joke that Tony probably wouldn’t even notice if Steve walked in naked, but Tony has vehemently rejected that suggestion, saying that if anything could take his attention away from work it would be the sight of his husband in his birthday suit. 

Steve has yet to test his hypothesis, but one of these days he might be tempted to actually do so.

What he finds instead, however, is his husband asleep on the couch, body curled in tightly on himself in a fetal position that looks highly uncomfortable. He stirs awake at Steve’s presence, eyes squinting open. It takes a few seconds for Tony to register the sight of Steve looking down at him.

“Oh, right. Burgers. Let’s go, baby,” Tony says, standing up slowly. His voice sounds odd and gravelly with something other than sleep, facial features set in a grimace. 

Steve steps closer, eyebrows furrowing when he spots the beads of sweat near Tony’s hairline. He presses the back of his palm to Tony’s forehead and isn’t exactly surprised when he finds it burning hot to the touch. 

Sighing with fond exasperation, he dabs at Tony’s sweat-damp forehead with his shirtsleeve. Tony sways on his feet, trying his best not to look as sick as he must be feeling and failing spectacularly. 

“Change of plans. Chicken soup for dinner, meds, and then a night of restful sleep.”

“What? No. I’m fine, honey. Come on, I promised you we’d go to that new diner you wanted to—”

“The only place you’ll be going to is straight to bed, mister.”

“But—”

“Burgers can wait.” Steve squeezes his shoulders, thumbs drawing circles reassuringly. 

Tony blinks languidly before succumbing to Steve’s embrace with a defeated sigh. The way he surrenders without putting much of a fight is a testament to how awful Tony must be feeling. Steve wraps his arms around him, rubbing his back soothingly. Tony’s shirt is already damp with sweat. 

“Sorry, baby. I know you were really excited about checking out that diner.” 

The reason Steve has looked forward to this diner date has more to do with the thought of spending much needed quality time with his husband than with the prospect of eating delicious diner burgers, although he suspects Tony thinks otherwise. Steve presses a gentle kiss to his temple. “Don’t apologize, silly. It’s not like you wanted to get sick.”

Tony’s eyes fall shut and he rests his heavy head upon Steve’s shoulder, like the mere act of standing upright is proving to be too much of an effort at the moment. 

“Will you carry me to bed?” Tony rasps weakly. He coughs a few times, sore throat protesting. 

“Of course, my darling.” Steve bends down to gather Tony in his arms, lifting him up bridal style before planting a kiss on his forehead. “I wish it were this easy to get you to come to bed most nights.”

A wan smile peeks out from where Tony’s face is buried in the crook of Steve’s neck. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I know you better than that, sweetheart.”

After tucking Tony in bed with multiple layers of blankets to keep him warm, Steve leaves for the kitchen to grab a glass of warm water. While he’s at it, he asks JARVIS to order a considerable amount of Tony’s go-to chicken soup from his favorite deli.

When he walks back into the bedroom, he feels his lips curve up into a helpless smile at the adorable sight of Tony on the bed, buried almost entirely under the sheets with only his head visible, propped up by several pillows. 

Kaleidoscopic lights dance on Tony’s face, projected from whatever is playing on the TV screen. 

“What are you watching?” Steve asks, making his way towards Tony. Whatever it is, it seems to have captivated most of Tony’s attention. 

“My number one feel-good movie,” Tony mumbles distractedly, eyes glued to the screen. Steve sets the glass on top of the nightstand before turning to see what movie is playing. 

Upon recognizing the film, his breath catches in his throat. 

He watches his own eyes staring right back at him from the widescreen TV. The familiar baby blues on the screen hold his gaze for the briefest of moments before dropping down to the ground, an easy yet bashful smile blooming on his face.

As he takes in the sight of the unadulterated joy on his own face, he thinks that even if a complete stranger were to watch the video, without any reference as to how various kinds of emotions would play out on Steve’s face, there would still be no mistaking the expression of his face on the screen for anything other than one of a man in love. 

The videographer’s voice comes through, off-camera:

“When did you know that Tony was the one?”

The camera maintains a cinematic close-up of his face as he ponders the answer. Steve remembers that day as if it was yesterday, sitting on a plush armchair in a wooden cabin, early morning sunlight streaming through the sheer white curtains. He remembers hearing the chirping of birds—a sharp contrast to the distant cacophony of Manhattan traffic that would usually accompany his mornings at the Tower. The lodges they had rented for the wedding were situated within a forest. A beautiful yet secluded area in the middle of the woods was the venue of their small and private wedding, attended by only the closest of family and friends. 

It was a wonderful day and he had felt jittery all morning, butterflies wreaking havoc in his stomach at the thought of pledging his life to Tony in just a few hours.

Steve sighs as he glances at Tony, smiling fondly at the way his husband continues to watch the film in silent rapture. 

“Aren’t you tired of watching this over and over again, sweetheart?” Steve asks, cupping the back of Tony’s neck and stroking his hairline with his thumb. 

“Shhh.” Tony reaches up to halt the movement of Steve’s hand, holding it in his instead. “We’re getting to the best part.”

Steve lets Tony pull him by the hand so he ends up seated beside Tony on the bed, joining him under the covers. He curls an arm around Tony’s shoulder and he feels Tony’s head shift from its position on the pillows, relocating to Steve’s chest with a quiet sigh.

On the screen, Steve looks off-camera at the videographer as he says:

“I think it was when… it occurred to me one day, that whenever I thought about the future, Tony was always in it.”

The Steve in the video smiles to himself, nodding wordlessly for a few moments.

“It’s like… the rest of my life won’t make sense unless he’s right there, by my side.” 

The video cuts to a picturesque, slow-motion shot of Tony in a separate cabin, staring at his own reflection in the mirror as he buttons up his dress shirt, looking nervous and pensive all at once. 

“I can’t—and I don’t want to—imagine my life without him,” Steve says, voice continuing as a voice-over as the video cuts again, this time to a shot of Rhodey helping Tony wear the jacket of his suit. Gentle music plays in the background, a heart-fluttering combination of piano and orchestral strings. 

“You looked really beautiful, sweetheart,” Steve whispers into Tony’s hair, his mind recalling the memory of himself tearing up when he first saw Tony all dressed up in his wedding tux. 

Tony huffs. “You have the makeup artist and hair stylist to thank for that. I was too busy trying to not have a panic attack.”

Steve chuckles. “So I heard. Thank God for Pepper and Rhodey.”

“Thank God for Pepper and Rhodey,” Tony echoes with a nod before letting out a series of violent coughs. Steve reaches for the glass on the nightstand and hands it to him, watching as Tony downs the water in grateful gulps.

After murmuring a quiet thanks, Tony settles back in his arms with a pained and miserable moan. Steve runs his hand up and down Tony’s stomach, frowning in sympathy. 

“Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll wake you when the soup’s here.”

Tony hums before turning to sleep on his side, body curling into Steve’s and face pressed into his neck, seeking warmth. Soft brown hair tickles Steve’s jaw and he presses a lingering kiss to the top of Tony’s head, wishing fervently for his husband’s speedy recovery. There are few things in life Steve hates more than a hurt or sick Tony.

The videographer asks Steve another question. “Three words to describe Tony?”

On the bed, Steve feels the way Tony’s breathing turns slow and steady, body going lax against his.

The Steve in the video turns quiet at the question, thoughtful eyes staring out the window as he gathers his thoughts. He remembers Sam chiding him for constantly looking out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tony walking by. Their friends had insisted that they had to go at least an entire day without seeing or talking to each other before the wedding ceremony. 

Although they had definitely spent weeks away from each other before due to work, Tony’s absence was acutely unbearable for Steve that day. He was a cocktail of emotions, and the very person that was turning him into a mess of nerves was also the one person that could usually calm him down. 

When he finally turns to the videographer again, his blue eyes are bright and confident. As he answers the question, his smile morphs into something soft and private, the way it tends to at the thought of Tony:

“My better half.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr [@maguna-stxrk](https://maguna-stxrk.tumblr.com/) and let's talk all things stevetony! :)


End file.
